Friday, April 3, 2009

I am a writer of lists. Little memorandums of groceries, movies, playlist tracks, lexicon, errands, or boys I have lent my heart to. Footnotes tacked to my door trail across my vision as I run to school each morning and the margins of my writing tablet are riddled with notations so cryptic even I won't be able to decipher them at the end of the day.

Detergent

Amelie

Vito's Ordination Song

Inori (prayer)

Drop off resume

It occurs to me that I should save these deciduous leaflets of thought, so I paste them together in a book of other extracts from the vicissitudes of my life.